


Y-yellow

by Kayla_Edwards



Category: iNabber - Fandom, james marriott - Fandom
Genre: It’s late, M/M, lowkey smut I guess, safe wording
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:58:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayla_Edwards/pseuds/Kayla_Edwards
Summary: Knees against the back of the sofa and  eyes fluttering shut, all of Fraser’s senses lock on to the consistent pressure on the small of his back. Grounding him. Allowing him something to focus on rather than the whirlwind of thoughts inside.





	Y-yellow

It hits him all at once, his emotions I mean. Like a tornado, Fraser finds him self metaphorically being thrown around; insides tangled up in a thousand knots, keeping Fraser from feeling the tranquil that was once constant in his stature. 

Knees against the back of the sofa and eyes fluttering shut, all of Fraser’s senses lock on to the consistent pressure on the small of his back. Grounding him. Allowing him something to focus on rather than the whirlwind of thoughts inside. 

The pressure moves up his spinal chord, nails leaving a sense of yearning when they dig into the flesh bellow Fraser’s shirt. Palm pausing in between his shoulder blades, Fraser feels himself being bent over the couch – almost thrusted, rough and leaving him to regulate his breathing. 

Once Fraser stops twitching the hand continues, tracing over the various bones it runs over. A trail of warmth following where the finger tips glide. Speed irregular, forcefulness fluctuating, it left Fraser in a constant state of anticipation and anxiety. 

Vulnerability consumed him in the most delicious way possible. Body feeling exposed even though there was nothing on display; all power seeping out of Fraser’s pores, latching onto the knuckles that were now pressing into the soft spots of his back. 

His body goes rigid abruptly when he feels a hand lightly tap his cheek, the harshness of the touches increasing with every tap. Soon the taps turn into incredibly soft slaps, leaving Fraser confused on what the owner of the hands wanted. Eventually it gets spelled out to him in swift physical motions; one palm griping the side of his face, lifting it gently into an uncomfortable position while the other traces its way down his cheek bone, landing on his glasses and removing them gently. Slowly placing his head back down onto the couch, one hand grips the side of his neck while the other goes back down his shoulders. 

Fingers dancing along his throat, Fraser feels his pulse beating harder than it was previously, speeding up along with his breathing, pattern irregular once again. Neck twisting to get away from the sensitive touches, body grinding for more. 

Feeling the front of someone else against him, Fraser’s body stutters in hesitation. Sweat collecting on his forehead – unsure of how much further he could go. 

Both hands were held on his hips, small circles being traced into the space. The body slowly brackets Frasers against the couch, both arms wrapping around his chest, head in the crook of his neck – hot, moist, heavy breathes landing in the surrounding area and Fraser quite suddenly realised the reality of what this was building up to. 

“Y-yellow” he breathes out, feeling James body loosening around him – allowing enough space for Fraser to escape if he needed. 

“What triggered it?” He asks, voice even. 

“Trapped.” Fraser whispers back. 

A firm tug pulls him ((Fraser)) upright, both hands gripping his forearms in order to spin the two around. Fraser now bracketing James in between his – quivering – thighs. 

There’s a pregnant pause, James running his fingers up and down Fraser’s waist – a tingling sensation being left behind. There’s an understanding between the two at that moment in time and for that Fraser felt okay. James meant he was okay. James would make sure it was okay. James meant it would all be okay. 

“Green” he whispers against James lips before pushing his body flush again him, allowing James to take control again. 

He repeated the word yellow throughout the night, followed by green once James made it okay. And at the end of the night, when James was holding Fraser against his chest, arms secure around his stomach he found himself whispering “green, I love you”.

The arms tighten, “I love you, Frase.”


End file.
